


I've got a present for you (It's made from pieces of my skin)

by Marshmallowmachinegun



Series: I Will Help You Swim [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Child Abuse, Disturbing Themes, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Forced Prostitution, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other, Pedophilia, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7847338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmallowmachinegun/pseuds/Marshmallowmachinegun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was one more stone in his hand when he was already drowning?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've got a present for you (It's made from pieces of my skin)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from the song "Bones In The Water" by Battle Of Mice. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wScX-ao9ZU
> 
> This is just a short spin-off of my story "I Will Help You Swim" give it a read if you'd like! 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6943984/chapters/15836458

_A dog, crossing a bridge over a stream with a piece of flesh in his mouth, saw his own shadow in the water and took it for that of another Dog, with a piece of meat double his own in size. He immediately let go of his own, and fiercely attacked the other Dog to get his larger piece from him. He thus lost both: that which he grasped at in the water, because it was a shadow; and his own, because the stream swept it away._

 

 

It was always so quiet afterward when Ajax was done with him and he was allowed to close his eyes, to breathe for a moment. A selfish moment where all he thought of was the air rushing through his lungs. Taking refuge inside his body; a body so foul and polluted it was more akin to a landfill than a vessel of meat and bones.

 

Wade always focused on the single dirty bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting nicotine yellow light over the cramped room where he laid himself bare for someone he despised.

 

It was bizarre how easily he could detach his head from his shoulders and fly above to watch what was happening. He would focus on the light and then he would be sitting on the floor, staring coldly as Ajax lurched and grunted on top of him.

 

He looked _so fucking small_.

 

He never felt small when it was happening, he didn't feel much of anything, he never stuck around enough to know what he felt. But judging from the expressions he made, he must feel scared and... _pained_.

 

"Oh will you quit it" he growled at himself in weaker moments when he would cry, or beg for it to stop. "Stop being a _baby_ , you're so fucking _stupid, **shut up**_."

 

Years later Wade would draw a disturbing parallel between what he said to himself, and how his parents spoke to him. But that has not happened yet. In this moment he is just a sixteen-year-old high school dropout; he has nothing to do, nothing going for him. So why not get fucked up and stay fucked up? As long as he stayed out of jail, he was fine.

 

A blink and he was back inside himself, and he hurt all over, body covered in bruises and bite marks that he never had to explain. He had no one to explain them to. He was an adult (though most of the time he felt like a terrified child) and this was his job. Daddy always said that a real man does his job proudly and without complaint.

 

So when Ajax told him to bust down someone's door, over money, over drugs; Wade bust down the door. He got the money, he broke the nose or the arm. He did what he was told.

 

And when Ajax told him to get on his knees or his back, he went silently and with little or no fuss. He laid still, he closed his eyes, and he numbly slipped away. He did what he was told.

 

The response was always the same.

 

" ** _good_ _boy_** "

 

 

_A Donkey having heard some Grasshoppers chirping, was highly enchanted; and, desiring to possess the same charms of melody, demanded what sort of food they lived on to give them such beautiful voices. They replied, “The dew.” The Donkey resolved that he would live only upon dew, and in a short time died of hunger._

 

 

"Wade, I had quite the interesting conversation."

 

The blonde wasn't listening, he was preoccupied with tying off the strip of rubber around his arm. Holding an end in his teeth as he grasped the plastic spoon and lighter with his unoccupied hands.

 

Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it.

 

But those thoughts dissipated the moment the needle broke his skin.

 

"Do you remember that man from yesterday? Old guy? He was in the gray suit?"

 

His veins never wanted to cooperate, they hid like roaches when the lights clicked on and finding them was a chore in and of itself. God, he just wanted to get fucking high not perform minor surgery on himself.

 

"Was he the asshole who wanted me to sit on his lap? Or is that another guy?"

 

Ajax had connections like a tree had branches. His tendrils spilled out into every area of New York, and it seemed like every week there was someone in the warehouse looking for him to settle some dispute. Usually, the guys were from Wilson Fisk, but not always.

 

Wade hated dealing with the guys Fisk sent over. They were creepy. And old. They never saw him as anything but Ajax's bitch, and as such Wade received not even a modicum of their respect.

 

Wade was just sick of having his ass slapped, to be honest.

 

"Yes, that's him, anyway, he really likes you, and he, well...Wanted to know if you were free."

 

Mother _fucker._

 

There went any warm fuzzies he had from attempting to shoot up.

 

He felt sick and cold.

 

Seeing that he had Wade's attention, Ajax quickly chimed back in, "I told him no, you're not free, but you were available."

 

Wade vaguely wondered if he could reach the gun Ajax had tucked into his pocket without the other man noticing. He was sure Ajax wouldn't care, he only needed one bullet after all. He just didn't know who to use it on.

 

"So, long story short I hope you didn't have plans tomorrow night."

 

He never did. Ajax knew Wade had no friends or family, all he did was sit around, waiting for Ajax to tell him what to do. His days were spent drinking like a fish, smoking like a train, and fucking Ajax for more mind-numbing chemicals.

 

"I promise he'll treat you okay, he's clean."

 

What he wanted to say was that Ajax had promised that the last time, and the time before. He always promised that Wade would be okay and that he wouldn't get hurt or sick. He always wound up one or the other.

 

What he did say, with a shrug, was "alright"

 

Ajax brushed past him, ruffling his hair as he went.

 

"Good boy"

 

Wade plunged the needle in.

 

 

 _A dog lay in a manger, and by his growling and snapping prevented the oxen from eating the hay which had been placed_ for _them. “What a selfish Dog!” said one of them to his companions; “he cannot eat the hay himself, and yet refuses to allow those to eat who can.”_

 

 

They weren't supposed to smoke in the room, that is what the attendant said at the front desk as she handed the two of them the key. She had been pleasant, but she was not dumb, it was painfully obvious what they two of them were checking in for.

 

"I can assure you," Gray suit said, the hand that had been resting on Wade's back like a clutter of spiders slid further down, groping his ass as subtly as the man could manage "my son and I will be on our _best_ behavior."

 

The attendant glanced over at Wade, her expression so painfully concerned it wormed through the deadened haze that had settled over his brain. She looked torn, as if she wanted to say something, but eventually resigned to filling out the paperwork on her desk.

 

Willful ignorance was bliss after all.

 

Gray suit put his hand back in a respectful position, but the touch still felt like spiders scurrying over his skin. Crawling over every surface, leaving a trail of filth in its wake. Soon they would be on every surface of his body while gray suit fucked him. He would be coated in grime that nothing could remove.

 

It made sense, Wade was garbage, he had been since childhood, did he truly believe he could scrub off what had been on him since birth?

 

The room gray suit had rented was on the third floor, if Wade took a running start and landed on his head, the impact would certainly kill him.

 

But he didn't jump, he was a _**good boy**_ after all.

 

 

_The ants were spending a fine winter’s day drying grain collected in the summertime. A Grasshopper, perishing with famine, passed by and earnestly begged for a little food. The Ants inquired of him, “Why did you not treasure up food during the summer?’ He replied, “I had not leisure enough. I passed the days in singing.” They then said in derision: “If you were foolish enough to sing all the summer, you must dance supperless to bed in the winter.”_

 

 

Gray suit is in the shower, and Wade is doing what he always does. He is digging through the man's belongings, taking whatever he thinks might help him. Usually, it is money, sometimes it is pain medication or nice cigarettes. A small consolation prize for his hard work.

 

If you could call lying on your stomach trying not to vomit work, Wade wasn't one to argue semantics.

 

He nudges aside some random papers nestled in the man's bag, he must have come from work, as almost all of his things were business-like and quite formal.

 

Gray suit was dumb enough to leave his wallet, but Wade was reluctant to take directly from the source. He usually only nicked what was loose in their pockets or bags.

 

He might have felt guilty about the theft if gray suit hadn't been such a prick while fucking him, but he had been, and without any hesitation, he thumbs through the leather as quickly as he could. He doesn't want to get caught after all.

 

Wade would look back on this event later in life and realize that this was it. This was the moment where what little hope he had hidden away in himself rolled over and died.

 

He would also later pinpoint this as the exact moment where he truly began to drink for reasons other than to pass the time. He would start to drink in an attempt to purge the images now burned into his brain.

 

Why did he bother being surprised by how shitty humanity was?

 

It took a special kind of evil to carry these types of pictures around with you, and he wishes he would have jumped when he had the chance.

 

It wasn't too late.

 

He could take these pictures to someone, the police, and help the man's children get away from what was an obviously sick individual. But what good would that do? Then Wade would have to explain why he was with gray suit in the first place. What would happen to him? Would anyone care? Bile rises in his throat and leaks out of his nose.

 

Wade closed the wallet, he felt like he was signing a death warrant.

 

When gray suit comes back, Wade is sitting on the bed, hands clasped in his lap as he stares at nothing.

 

Gray suit pushes Wade back down, getting on top of him and spreading his legs.

 

"It's okay to cry this time." His hands skim over Wade's skin, and he can feel the tissue die in turn, turning necrotic black under his fingertips, rotting like meat in a broken freezer. "I want you to cry."

 

He was a good boy, so he did what he was told.

 

"Yes daddy."

 

 

_A bear boasted very much of his philanthropy, saying that of all animals he was the most tender in his regard for man, for he had such respect for him that he would not even touch his dead body. A Fox hearing these words said with a smile to the Bear, “Oh! that you would eat the dead and not the living.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
